Black Eyes and A Broken Ego
by felicitysm0ak
Summary: The Maze Runner High School AU: Thomas ends up with a black eye and a bruised lip.


"Dang, what happened?"

"Don't ask," Thomas winced in pain, telling Newt as he was running towards his best friend, who was in obvious pain.

They were both in their favourite hang out - a coffee shop— _The Rising Sun— _just across their school. They were always there; for some reason he started hanging out here when he was in middle school with his two best friends: Newt and Minho (and some other people, too, but usually it's just the three of them), it kind of just stuck.

"Dude, you look horrible." Newt didn't know whether or not to laugh. But it seemed like Thomas wasn't in a mood for jokes.

Thomas had a black eye and a split lip; the story behind it was just to embarrassing to tell. So he just decided to let everybody who saw him assume whatever they wanted.

Except for one person who he knew would demand the truth from him - no matter what.

As if on queue, he saw his brunette girlfriend enter the pub with Minho. They looked like they were in a serious conversation, not even looking where they were heading.

Not that they needed to look, they knew where they had to go: it was where they always sat whenever they come to The Rising Sun.

Thomas felt his heart thudding; he knew Brenda would interrogate him for the _oh so not noticeable _black eye he had on. Not to mention his bleeding lip.

He was hoping that she wouldn't notice it, because God damn it, he didn't want to tell her— and eventually everyone— why.

But that was wishful thinking.

"Well," Newt started talking as he saw Brenda and Minho on the way to where they were, "she'll find out for us soon enough." He said, smirking.

Thomas shot him a glare and looked towards his girlfriend, who was almost reaching to their table. Thomas took the closest thing he could find next to him, pretending to read.

"… It is not!" Brenda half-shouted to Minho.

Minho rolled his eyes, "It _is. _Damn it, Brenda."

"Tomato is a fruit, okay. It has seeds. Vegetables don't have seeds!"

"It's not an actual fact!" Minho retorted.

"No wonder you're failing food tech," she mumbled, as she took a seat next to Thomas.

"I HEARD THAT!"

Brenda looked at him back, but said nothing and rolled her eyes.

Thomas shifted as she sat next to him, avoiding her gaze at all costs.

"What's with him?" Minho asked Newt, sitting across Thomas.

Newt shrugged and smiled, "Come on, Tommy. Do enlighten us."

"What's going on?" Brenda asked, looking at the _Vanity _magazine he was _so into _reading, which was actually upside down.

"Thomas, why are you reading a magazine…?" Brenda asked, amused.

_Shit. _Thomas had to resist to throw the repulsive thing away. "I was reading about horoscopes."

"Uhuh.." Minho said, "Come on, buddy, really?"

"Tommy here has a black eye and a split lip," Newt said suddenly, making Thomas put the magazine down and swore at him. Newt shrugged, "What? You think we're gonna let it go if you were actually reading about your love life in the future based on horoscopes?"

"It was worth a try." He grumbled back.

"Dude." Minho said, finally staring at his black eye and bruised lip," You look horrible."

"I'll be the one to ask." He heard Brenda say. Thomas slowly turned around to face his girlfriend's _almost furious _and _almost scary _face. Which was anything but scary; it was adorable, to be honest. But he wasn't ever going to admit _that._

"Uh.." Thomas started.

"You better start talking, or god so help me, I swear—"

Thomas sighed, cutting whatever threat she was going to make: she maybe pretty and adorable, but her temper was anything but. He's seen it _and _experienced it a few times, and no doubt he will be experiencing it again, but it would usually stop after he gave her an unexpected kiss.

Which he knows won't apply _this _situation.

Giving in, Thomas finally told them: "I…"

"We've got all day and night here, Tommy." Newt said, amused.

"This is going to be interesting." Minho leaned back into his chair.

"Assholes," Thomas shot them both a glare, which would've been _almost scary_, but certainly not with the black eye.

Thomas looked back to Brenda, who was crossing her arms.

Thomas took her hand and looked at her, then to Newt and Minho, "You guys promise me: don't laugh."

"You telling us this would definitely assure me, that we would, bud," Minho smiled.

"Just spit it out," Brenda said, rolling her eyes, "it can't be that bad. Did you get into a fight or something?"

"No…" He said, he wished that he _did, _though. "I.. I woke up this morning, and I was looking for my Chemistry textbook in my shelf, and…"

"And…?" Brenda continued for him.

"… and the boxes of my old comic books fell on top of me!" He finally admitted. "Happy now?"

Newt scoffed, Minho banged his head on the coffee table. He looked at Brenda who rolled her eyes, "It's not that bad, Thomas! It's better than getting into a fight, at least!"

Thomas pouted, "Well, if you put it that way…"

Brenda shook her head and smiled, putting her hand onto his face, brushing his bruised lip with her thumb. "Does it hurt?"

Thomas felt a little bit relaxed. He leaned into her hand, "Nope. Not anymore."

"I think I'm going to puke." Minho fake-vomited.

Thomas smirked, "Bathroom's that way."

"Seriously, though." Brenda said, "you need to put an icepack on this. It'll swell, and God knows what else."

Thomas nodded, "Yeah. Later."

"No," she pressed on, "Now. I'll ask Pete for an icepack," she said as she stood up. "Be right back."

As Brenda went back, towards the coffee shop's kitchen, Newt looked back towards Thomas, "I want a Brenda."

Thomas felt prideful, "Too bad this one's taken. Get your own."

"Soon," Newt grinned, "You know I have ladies lining up for me."

"In your dreams," Minho scoffed. "I wouldn't want a Brenda, she's too much of a smarty-pants. I lose every argument I get into with her!"

"Because you don't use your brain, doofus." Brenda said as she came back, an icepack in her hand, "You can't even distinguish a fruit from a vegetable."

"A tomato," Minho said, standing his ground, "is _not _a fruit!"

Brenda shrugged, a hand holding an icepack onto Thomas' black eye, the other at the back of his neck. Smiling at Minho, she said, "Whatever you say, smarty."


End file.
